Bottled up inside
by Benedict-Addict Holmes
Summary: Dumped by her boyfriend, fired from Bart's, Molly is in a mess thanks to our detective.Will he be able to amend the state of affairs before Molly does something drastic? Read on to know. Slightly AU, post Reichenbach. Bits of Sherolly fluff. Please read and review!
1. The end

**Author's note : This is my first Sherlock fic. I always felt Molly was a great character who nobody paid much attention to. She's wonderful this fic is mostly about her with short bits from Sherlock POV and of course, a great deal of Sherolly!**

**Please read and review, I promise this is an interesting one.**

**Disclaimer : Sadly, the gorgeous and brilliant detective doesn't belong to me. **

**Enjoy the story!**

The clock struck 7 and Molly awoke with a yawn. Rubbing her eyes and blinking the sleep out of them, she stumbled into the bathroom. The hot water felt delightful against her bare skin and she squealed as the sprays of water hit minutes later, she emerged dressed in a fresh blue shirt and a black skirt. She looked into the mirror and smiled. The clothes looked a lot better than her usual attire of loose fitting jeans and jumpers.

Her smile disappeared when she remembered the disastrous turn of events that had taken place yesterday and how mad Stuart had been afterwards. She had to do something to amend them and she had no idea how. Sighing to herself, she made herself a cup of coffee (black with two sugars, just the way Sherlock took his) and buttered two slices of bread. Having gulped down this meagre breakfast, she slipped into her dark blue tweed coat, gathered her things and was about to step out when her landline telephone rang.

Wondering who on earth would call her so early in the morning, she extended a trembling hand towards the telephone.

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The morning was uneventful for Sherlock. John was still at Mary's, he had already yelled at Mrs. Hudson for fretting about the severed head in the fridge, and he had thrown away the paper in disgust after finding no murder in its pages. He lay idly in his armchair in the blue dressing gown. He had tried to compose but his attempts had proved futile. Oh why was the world so dull after Moriarty's death!

Finally he decided to go to Bart's.

The results of his experiments with a fascinating new species of Clostridia were due. Hoping that Molly would have had the sense to hide the result papers from that sneaky, gossipy attendant of hers, he stepped out of 221B Baker Street.

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Mike Stamford's voice rang out loud and clear in her ears. 'Julia found loads and loads of unofficial experimental papers in your cupboard, Molly, none of them pertaining to the cases assigned to you. Nearly all of them are the researches of Sherlock Holmes. There have been body parts missing form cadavers on the last three tables. What have you done Molly? That was extremely unprofessional of you. What does this man mean to you anyway, that you're giving him such liberties to work around without permission? Have you realized the position this puts you in?...' on and on he ranted and she listened, too angry with herself for forgetting to lock the cupboard the previous night. She had been too preoccupied with Stuart to really think of anything else. Honestly, how was she supposed to know that Julia was just waiting for an opportunity to peek into it?

And then came the biggest blow.' Molly, I can't allow you to come back to work. I'm sorry but I've been ordered to fire you. I'm really sorry. Your last paycheck will be sent to you by post. I promise I'll help you find a new job. Please let me know how I can help...'. He hung up after offering a few more words of sympathy.

Almost immediately, she received a text from Stuart, the doctor from the forensic department with whom she had been on a few dates. He was a really nice guy and Molly had liked him a lot. The text said that he didn't want to go out with her anymore, referring to her as someone who spent so much time at the beck and call of another man with whom she had been infatuated since forever. The brutal honesty of the text made her Mike, he had not even tried to be sympathetic.

Unable to comprehend what was happening to her, she crumpled in a heap on the couch, too shocked to was too much right? Fired and dumped on the same day. Too bad to be true! 'But that's how things are in Mollyworld, she thought bitterly. This morning she had woken up hoping for a bright, promising and Sherlock-free day and not an hour later, her whole world was upside down.

She had taken her job at Bart's for granted, she knew that. She was so accustomed to the morgue, the microscopes, the petridishes, the instruments that she had never paused to think about what she would do without them. And she supposed the whole world knew about her crush on Sherlock, thanks to Julia. What she hadn't expected though was that a broadminded, nice guy like Stuart would be bothered by it.

After yesterday though, she should have known that hoping to go out with Stuart again was optimism to the point of foolishness. True, like every other boyfriend of hers that Sherlock had humiliated, Stuart had faced the worst. Sherlock in his usual manner had taken one look at Stuart before rattling off uncomfortable truths about him in front of Molly, till he had left the room in a huff, followed by Molly.

Mike's question bothered her to bits. What did Sherlock mean to her after all? He had never shown any concern towards her whatsoever. He had said that she counted and then he had used her to help him fake his death. But after that things were back to square one. He would storm into the morgue as if he owned the place, talk to her as he pleased and sometimes ignore her altogether. Still, she couldn't stop loving him. His eyes, his high cheekbones, the long belfast coat, his low baritone voice, all made her stutter like an idiot in front of him like a schoolgirl instead of the qualified pathologist she was. And now she was nowhere, thanks to him.

This morning, Molly couldn't have wished for anything more but in a flash her job was gone, her boyfriend was gone and she would soon have to move out of her flat thanks to her joblessness and meagre savings. And then she would have to face her mother's wrath, berating her for being single and now without a job at the age of 31.

Her future was nothing but a black hole. She knew she was going to get sucked in without being able to do anything about it.

Life...the word held no meaning for her anymore.

Perhaps life was not worth living anymore...

**Author's note: Ooh..a cliffhanger! What is Molly about to do? I think most of you will have figured that out. I promise I'll upload the next chapter on Saturday (I know it's a long time but I'm going off to college and I'll be back home only for the weekend). **

**Stay tuned till then! Please read and review, they keep me going :) Love you all**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	2. Just in time!

**Author's note : So here is the next chapter. Thank you all the people who reviewed the first chapter and added this story to your alerts. I live because of you guys. Love you all! Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to give me your feedback!**

**Disclaimer : Everything belongs to Sir ACD and the creators of Sherlock. **

The first thing Sherlock noticed , walking towards Molly's office was the closed door. Weird. She always left the door open for him and John. So Molly wasn't in yet. Another weird thing. He would eat his violin if Molly had ever missed work before or had been late.

He found her snoopy assistant Julia wandering around, looking very happy about something. Sometimes, it appalled him how open the woman was about the fact that she would sleep around with anyone to climb up the ladder. Dark red lipstick, a figure hugging pink shirt two sizes too small with the first two buttons undone and a tight black pencil skirt with a thigh high slit. He stormed out of the morgue in disgust, in no mood to waste time trying to pry out information about Molly from Julia. She hated her anyway. He stopped in his tracks. That is why Julia was looking so happy. Something had happened to Molly. What about his results? It would be a terrible inconvenience to have his researches interrupted.

He had reached the main reception area of the huge hospital where the nurse promptly informed him that Molly had not yet come to work and she hadn't called in sick either.

He frowned. Something was very odd. Well, there was only one way to find out. He walked out of the hospital, found a cab and gave her address to the cabbie.

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Molly held the syringe in her hand, not trembling even a bit. Her troubles would soon be over. She smiled at the thought of finally going to sleep after what seemed like a long and tiring day. She wondered if anyone would even notice her absence. Unlikely.

Then unwelcome thoughts of her funeral began to fill her mind. She wondered who all would come. Her family would be there and so would John. Perhaps Greg and Sally too. Sherlock...would he be bothered? She would like to think that he would be there, muttering a thousand things that he shouldn't have said to her and apologis\zing all the while...

She was broken from her reviere by a loud ring of the doorbell. She panicked. She had to do it fast! before she started thinking twice about it. But the knocking and doorbell ringing wouldn't stop. She held the syringe, attached the needle and was about to plunge it into her arm when the door crashed open.

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He stood in her doorway, finally having broken down the door when there was no answer.

And the sight in front of him chilled him to the bone.

She stood straight, with a needle in her pale hand which wasn't even trembling. She didn't even notice his presence when he walked towards her, breathless. What scared him the most though was the blank, mask-like look on her face. For once, he could deduce nothing from her expression. His eyes darted quickly over her attire and the small apartment.

_coat still on- she had intended to come to work _

_receiver off the phone- bad news through a phone call_

_mobile phone blinking, he caught the words 'not anymore' and the name Stuart - dumped by her boyfriend_

_a new blouse- to make amends for yesterday_

_make up light but not smudged- hadn't cried after the bad news_

_Julia looking happy- bad news related to work._

His eyes widened at the realization. She had been fired from Bart's.

Her hand moved quickly but his moved faster and in an instant he tried to snatch the needle away form her. She struggled but her face was still blank. Her nimble fingers were wound around the tiny object in a vice like grip though and she refused to let go.

So he did the only thing that would make her come out of her trance. His hands left the syringe and one hand collided with her face as he gave her a resounding slap.

**Author's note : Hehe..I bet you didn't see **_**that **_**coming! Well, Sherlock reached just in time, let's see what happens next. Please read and review...Did I mention how much I love all of you? No? Well, I Love you :) So please leave me a nice review to read :)**

**Aditi xoxoxoxo**


	3. Think of me

**Author's note : Well, here's chapter number three! It's a nice long one and I hope you like it :) Thanks to all of you who reviewed and have followed this story. I really appreciate you and I love you all :)**  
**Listen to : Curl up and Die by Relient K.**  
**Disclaimer : Sherlock completely belongs to Sir ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. Benedict Cumberbatch is mine though ;) I wish...**

She crumpled to the floor in a heap, her cheek stinging like hell. His eyes were fixed on her but he made no attempt to help her to her feet. The syringe lay forgotten somewhere in the corner. Molly kept her eyes fixed on his shoes, trying hard not to meet his eyes. It was difficult, considering the fiery intensity of his gaze.  
Finally he knelt down so that his face was at the same level as hers. His long fingers brushed her chin as he lifted her face so that he could look into her eyes. She felt the familiar jolt of electricity that shot through her whenever he was too close. His breath came out in ragged bursts. His expression for once was very much readable to her. Worry, streaked with sympathy, and so many other emotions swimming in his eyes that she had no name for.

She gazed sadly into his aquamarine blue eyes. He was the reason she had just tried to take her own life and yet, she couldn't bring herself to hate him. The simple reason being that she had loved him, almost worshipped him ever since their first meeting. She would easily take the blame on herself than ever believe that it was his fault. Ever

.  
'Why Molly?', he murmured in his deep voice that made her heart speed up to a million miles an hour. But for this once, he was not Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective and the most brilliant man in the world. He was just Sherlock, another human being, another friend who was just trying to help her.

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Sherlock, meanwhile was at a loss of what to do. Molly was looking at him but her eyes were like bottomless tunnels. The bright brown eyes which once shone with liveliness and indefinite admiration were now just...empty. When she didn't reply, he let his hand slide to her cold, pale cheek . She still gave no reaction. Even her cheeks didn't flush and neither did her pupils dilate. He was growing more and more frustrated by the second. Wasn't she out of the trance yet? Yes, she was or else she would still be looking for the syringe .

Finally, he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard, almost yelling in her face, 'Dammit Molly, just tell me! Why Molly, Why? What were you thinking? Look at me and answer me! This silence is unbearable! Speak to me, say something!'

His touch did it. It broke the dam that held back the flood of tears threatning to spill out. Now they broke free, running down her eyes in twin rivers. She couldn't hold herself back any longer and threw her arms around the worried detective's neck , sobbing earnestly into his shoulder. He stiffened involuntarily at her touch but she showed no signs of loosening her grip as she continued to cry, gasping out some incorrigible words of which he managed to catch a few.

'Julia...your results...my cupboard.. forgot to lock... told Mike..found out about your research...scolded me...angry...unprofessional...fired me' At this point she broke into fresh tears, unable to say anyhting.

So he was right then. Julia was responsible for Molly getting fired. A surge of anger shot through him at the thought of someone trying to deliberately sabotage the harmless, vulnerable girl in his arms.

She was still trying to say something in between her choked sobs...'Stuart...angry... blamed me...broke up...no more...because I ...you...' she broke off again, unable to say anyhting more but he had heard enough. Her boyfriend had broken up with her because he thought she was too besotted with Sherlock. So damn stupid of him. And this had been the one guy he thought was desrving enough to have a girl like Molly in his life. Apparently not.

Molly was still in his arms and he couldn't think of anything to say to her to calm her down so he just stroked her hair. For what seemed like a long long time, they just stayed like that. Him, with one hand at the small of her back and the other absent-mindedly tangling itself in her long auburn hair . Her, with her arms still around his neck breathing heavily and eventually calming down enough to realise the position she was in.

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She untangled herself reluctantly from his embrace, her cheeks flaming red and her eyes downcast. Every pore in her body screamed in protest at the withdrawal of his warmth. He looked at her once more and smiled when he saw her coloured cheeks. Good, that meant she was back to normal.

'Do me a favour Molly,' he said in that velvety voice of his that made her feel dizzy, 'next time before doing something so stupid, think about me would I do without you? '. She nodded before realising how that sounded. It seemed to have struck him too because he hastily added ' and John too, and Lestrade, and your family'.

' Yes... You're right.. I don't know what I was thinking', she muttered distracted by his earlier comment and wondering if it meant what she thought it did.

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Did he actually say that? What on earth was he thinking, giving her hopes like that? He knew Molly, he knew that something like that wouldn't escape her. After all, she had loved him for the past so many years and had hoped and hoped in vain to evoke at least some sort of a response from him. His words had been involuntary and now they alarmed him as much as they puzzled her.

He decided that the best way to avoid the question was to get the hell out of her flat and thinking about it later. So he turned to her.

'I'd better get going now. I've texted John, Mary will be here don't worry I haven't told them anything.' he reassured her.

'You're leaving?', she said, a hint of sadness and confusion to her voice.

'Yes, I must go before Mrs. Hudson unleashes her wrath on poor John. Oh look Mary's here already'.  
He gave a curt nod to the nurse who was John's girlfriend and also happened to be Molly's best friend.

'About your job, don't worry at all. Mike will call you today in the evening to take back his words and welcome you back to Bart's' he said as he stood in the doorway.

'W..What? But how?', she spluttered and he sighed. Simple girl.

'You'll see', he said before winking at her and stepping out into the street.

He held out his hand for a cab and gave him the address to Baker street. Once in the cab, he pulled out his iphone. He dialled a number and waited for the person at the opposite end to pick up the phone. Finally, the person responded.  
'Hello, Mycroft', he spoke.

**Author's note : Well, I came home in the middle of the week and so here is the third chapter. I hope you liked it especially the Sherolly bits. :) So since I favoured you with an update earlier than expected, it's your turn to do so with a nice review :) C'mon that button is just waiting to be pressed...**  
**Love you all :)**  
**Aditi xoxoxoxo**


	4. Contemplations

**Author's note: Thank you thank you thank you...all those who reviewed! You guys are awesome :)**  
**Did you people watch the interview that took place at Cheltenham? Benedict looked so adorable with Louise! And he said what every Sherlolly lover wants to hear. 'There's always hope for Molly'..yay!**  
**Anyway, I'd ship them in real life too because they simply fit together.**  
**So here's the next chapter. Some people asked me if Sherlock realized that what's happening is all his fault. So I decided to write this one entirely form his POV. It's fun! **

**Listen to : A Lack of Colour by Death Cab for Cutie**

**Disclaimer : I owe nothing except this story.**

Four hours had passed and Sherlock was still in the armchair, the blue dressing gown draped around him.

Molly, that one person had been so simple till yesterday. She was his pathologist, she was infatuated by him, she dated Moriarty for a short time and she had helped him fake his death.  
That were the only things about her in his mind palace.

But now, things had changed. He had sat in his armchair, doing nothing, just thinking about her.

He had replayed each meeting in his head. And he was shocked at how rude he had been towards her.

Every time, every single time he had said something that had her on the verge of tears. He wondered why he had done that. Had he really been so insensitive towards people in his determination to distance himself from sentiment as much as possible?

Hadn't Molly actually told him so on Christmas? And he had insulted her yet again. She had looked quite pretty, to be honest. Yet, it irritated him that she had had a new boyfriend once again. How wrong he had been. And it had been the only time his deduction had been so grossly off the mark.

And yet, if there was one thing he was absolutely certain of , then it was the fact that Molly had always loved him. He had thought of it as mere infatuation but he had known it to be true, unconditional love when she had risked everything in order to save his life.

Recalling that day still struck him with fear. It had been horrible and not just for him. But it had worked and it had been worth it. Totally worth it only because of one person. Her.  
Remembering her tear-streaked face as she desperately tried to revive him with CPR and what not only worsened his guilt. Honestly, she had been through too much because of him.

And now, she had tried to take her own life.

In the end, it all boiled down to him.

Her boyfriend dumping her, her boss sacking her, her many failed relationships and now this. He had almost killed her. Did that make him no better than Moriarty?

No, it didn't because he was going to make amends. He was going to apologize to her properly. She deserved a lot better than this.

Her face swam in front of his eyes and his mind was filled with unpleasant thoughts about what would've happened had he not reached in time. He brushed those thoughts away and tried focusing on something else.

The immediate response of his brain was to replay the morning's events in fast forward but it decelerated to slow motion as he saw himself kneeling on the carpet with Molly's arms around him.

It had felt very foreign but yet so strangely familiar. She was so very vulnerable and fragile, as if one word would shatter her into a million pieces.

Her sudden embrace had surprised him and the warmth of her proximity even more so. His pulse had sped up and he had felt her warmth spread through him like a slow current, banishing away all logical thought.

But what he had never imagined was how much he_ liked_ being in her arms. And smelling her hair. And the feeling of her warm breath against his neck. And so many other unnamed things.

No one else had ever been in his personal space except her.

And then she had pulled away and he was left with his body objecting strongly to her absence. Her cheeks had colored to a brilliant shade of scarlet, like the setting sun. She was chewing on her lower lip like she always did when she was nervous. Which had him wondering how her lips would taste if he just leant in and touched them with his own...

He jolted out of his reviere with a start. Had he really thought about that?

Bloody Hell.

He really needed something to distract him from Molly or else he was going to end up spending the whole day in his armchair thinking of her.

He shrugged off the dressing gown and grabbed his coat and scarf.

The urge to call Mary and ask her whether Molly was alright was overwhelming but he overrode it.

What he really needed at the moment was a long walk and an even longer smoke to drive away the thoughts of a certain brunette pathologist from his mind.

**A/N : Well, I hope you guys liked it. It is very very unlike of Sherlock to think like this ( like a normal person, lol ) but then he's only human right? Even if he happens to be the most brilliant one on the planet !**  
**Please review, it makes my day :)**  
**Next chapter will have more of Molly, I promise.**  
**Love you all.**  
**Aditi xoxoxo**


	5. Flurry of emotions

**Author's note : Hey! Here's another update. I know, I know it's very late but it's been a busy week.. So here's the next chapter and I promise you another one this week itself. Please read and review, I write because your reviews make my day. Honestly, I love you all.**  
**Listen to : I Love Your Smile by Charlie Winston**

Two weeks had passed since she had returned to Bart's. Yet she had neither seen him nor heard from him. She had sent him a text, thanking him for saving her life. He hadn't replied.

Thinking about that day always brought about a whirlpool of emotions in her.

Anger, towards Julia and her sneaky habits.

Dismay, at what Stuart had done.

Fear, as to what would've happened if Sherlock hadn't been there.

And some unnamed emotion for the time she had been in Sherlock's embrace, sobbing into his shoulder and being comforted by him. The familiar electric currents running up and down her spine, the usual flush of her cheeks, her nervous stutter was all so familiar that it should be called the when-I-meet-Sherlock syndrome.

She sighed to herself. Accepting the fact that things were going to be exactly as they were before hadn't been hard . But this avoidance was frustrating. She missed him. Striding into the morgue as if he owned it, working away incessantly at his microscope, the irritated expression usually reserved for a mind less intelligent than his own...

'Well, pondering over him isn't going to bring him back', she thought to herself. Might as well go and grab a cup of coffee and get back to work.

She shrugged off her lab coat and strolled towards the cafeteria. ' A black coffee, two sugars to go please,' she said politely. The coffee arrived in a minute. She turned to go back upstairs. And the sight in front of her eyes made her freeze.

Stuart and Julia were on the table at the extreme right, hands entwined and leaning towards each other. Julia's leg was so far up Stuart's leg that she could have counted the change in his pocket.

Her hands tightened around the coffee cup and she felt a lump in her throat. True, she had no right to feel what she did, considering that things between her and Stuart had ended, but it still hurt.

She choked back the tears that were starting to well up and turned, not willing to see any more , just wanting to get back to the morgue.

Instead, she ran into something warm and solid.

She tried to move past the person but he wouldn't budge. Finally, steeling herself and blinking furiously to make the tears vanish, she looked up to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes boring into hers.

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Sherlock saw in an instant what had upset her. The oncologist and the slutty assistant were completely engrossed in their conversation and didn't spare a glance for him nor Molly. Which suited him quite well as he grabbed her shoulders and veered her towards the staircase and up till they reached the morgue.

Here, he let her go and watched her reaction. She surprised him when she gave none. She walked towards her desk in her usual gait and sat down quietly, pulling the stack of files towards her.

_Same old clothes - wants to put the past behind_  
_No makeup - not in a mood to meet any new guys_  
_Hair in a messy bun - woke up late, dressed in a hurry_  
_No dark circles- slept well last night ( he noted in satisfaction)_

And then she looked at him questioningly.

Her gaze did it. It set free the flurry of emotions he had tried to keep caged for so long. He looked into those hazel eyes wondering how she could hide away so much pain beneath them and not let anyone know. Not even him.

He had had enough difficulty bringing his feelings under control. Honestly, it had been like he was a teenager once again. All those years spent as a junkie had left him with no time to think about the opposite sex. But now, it was as if he was seventeen once again, his hormones kicking into action, and sending his brain haywire, compensating for the time he had missed as an adolescent.

It had taken him two Molly-free weeks to finally return to the cold heartless machine that he was. At the moment however, she had thrown all that effort out of the window as he felt himself drowning in her eyes once more. But what astonished him the most was that he didn't even want to try and stay afloat.

'Caring is not an advantage. Don't let your head be ruled by your heart'. Mycroft's words rang out in his ears but for once he ignored them. What was there to worry about now? Moriarty was gone and so were all of his henchmen.

She must have noticed him staring because she blushed and smiled shyly, not meeting is simple upturning of her lips, he'd have given anything to make that happen again and again. It was lovely. She was lovely. And what made it even more special was the fact that it was because of him.

He felt himself smiling at her in response. Not a smirk or a taunting grin. A smile. A warm genuine smile that hadn't adorned his face since time immemorial.

This made her blush even more. Ah, there was the nervous biting of the lower lip.

And this time before he knew what he was doing, he stepped forward and without bothering to say anything, ducked and touched his lips to hers.

**A/n : Finally, some real Sherlolly! Did you like it? The button at the end of the page is begging you to press it and give me your feedback...C'mon ..it's right there...*hint, hint. wink, wink. nudge, nudge***  
**Anyway, I hope you like it and the next chapter will be up soon with a twist in the tale :)**  
**Love**  
**Aditi xoxoxox**


	6. Affections and Favours

**Author's note: All those who reviewed, followed, favorited this story, thank you! I love you all and you mean a lot to me. So, next chapter! Read and review please :)**

**Listen to : Somebody's me by Enrique**

**Disclaimer : Gatiss and Moffat, I am thy humble servant...**

Her eyebrows disappeared into her fringe as her brain registered what was happening. Her eyes had snapped shut of their own accord and at the moment the only thing she could think of was the feeling of his lips on hers. She had imagined this a billion times in her head but it was nothing compared to the real thing. His kiss, which she had expected to be precise and controlled was nothing of the sort. Instead it was urgent, enthusiastic and a bit messy. She realised with a start that this wasn't really his territory and he had probably had no experience at all.

So she put an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, guiding his lips to move in synchrony with her own. Their noses were touching, his hand had found its way into her hair, everything she had dreamt of and yet so much more, her heart was beating so fast that she couldn't distinguish separate beats...

Very soon, too soon for her, he pulled away, breathing heavily. His eyelids were closed, as if scared of letting her see what was behind them.

Their foreheads were touching and she could feel his cool breath dancing on her lips.

The only thing stopping her from kissing him again was the sheer shock of it all.

He kissed me...he kissed me...

And then his eyes opened, those glorious blue eyes that made Molly forget everything else in the world to make sure he got whatever he wanted. Oh those eyes which had dilated so much that she could just see a rim of ice blue iris and a gaping pupil, those eyes which were saying just one word. Her name. Molly.

Soon enough he whispered her name in a ragged breath, enough to make her pass out in ecstasy.

'Molly. Molly! Moll-' His voice was cut off as her head hit her desk with a slight thud.

The next thing she saw was his worried face as he tried to wake her up by gently slapping her cheek.

'M fine' she mumbled before realizing that his face was about an inch away from hers.

There was the When-I-Meet-Sherlock syndrome kicking in as she felt the familiar heat rise in her cheeks. What was surprising though was that Sherlock's high cheekbones were no longer pale like porcelain but instead had coloured slightly, enough to make him uncomfortable and nervous.

She chuckled at the thought. Sherlock Holmes and nervous. Two things that would probably never again go hand in hand.

He cocked an eyebrow at her expression as if asking what was so funny. She shook her head slightly and smiled, a genuine smile lighting up her face after so long.

And the best thing was that her smile was reflected on his face.

Then, he suddenly jumped away from her and soon enough someone cleared their throat at the door and she saw Julia standing at the door with something akin to triumph in her eyes.

'May I come in?' she asked in false sweetness.

Molly nodded her head absent- mindedly before turning to Sherlock but he was already on the verge of leaving.

He gave her one last nod before stepping out of the morgue.

It was then that her system digested what had actually happened.

Which made her blank with shock.

Sherlock, of all people, Sherlock had kissed her. Something that she had been wanting for years. Not in her wildest dreams had she even come close to what it felt like for real.

There was only one word to describe it. Mind-blowing.

Which was probably why her brain felt like complete mush at the moment.

'Looks like you've had some, that too from someone you like' smirked Julia. 'Hopefully he'll realize how boring you are quite soon, sooner than the others' she went on but Molly ignored her.

'You know, he's probably doing that only because he wants another huge favour from you.'

Her eyes snapped to Julia's at that.

'Another huge favour? What d'you mean?' she asked, her voice shaking with fear. If Julia knew that she had helped Sherlock fake his death...

'Yea like the way you arranged for his cultures to be tested or allowed him to take away body parts to his place.'

She relaxed, not really listening anymore. Julia didn't know. She couldn't have known. Julia was still ranting about something and Molly couldn't help but feel annoyed.

'Will you please shut up and let me work?' she finally snapped.

'Oh sure, Dr Molly-two-shoes. Finish your work perfectly and on time. Like anyone cares' she sneered before walking towards the door. Her words hurt but Molly was immune to them by now.

Just then she received a text from Sherlock.

_Dinner tonight at The Midtown Park._  
_Be ready._  
_SH_

She smiled to herself. She had a dinner date with Sherlock! She felt like dancing in the morgue and singing on the top of her voice. It almost made all the failed relationships worth it. It was like a huge balloon was inflating inside her, holding happiness within.

And then a comment from Julia punctured that balloon in a second and made her heart stand still.

'I forgot the most important favour. You saved his life, didn't you? After he jumped from the terrace of the hospital..'

**A/n : Here you go. Their first real kiss. Well, once in a review someone had asked me whether there'd be anything more about Julia in the subsequent chapters. Well, the next chapters will be having a lot of her and not just as a rude girl who hates Molly. She's an integral part of the plot.**  
**Won't say anymore here ;)**  
**Stay tuned to find out.**  
**And please review...:)**  
**Aditi**  
**xoxoxoxo**


	7. Reverie

**Author's note : So the next chapter is here. I'm sorry that it's a short one. I hope you like it though. And just a little thing, The Midtown Park mentioned in the previous chapter is the same hotel where my parents had their first date :)**

**Listen to : Neutron star collision by Muse.**

**Disclaimer : Gatiss and Moffat, I think you are both brilliant. Everything belongs to you.**

Sherlock was in a haze as he sat in a cab taking him to Baker Street. Thinking, just thinking. He could practically hear his mind whirring on and on. The triumphant look on Julia's face was what bothered him the most. Why was she looking like that? It was no secret that she hated Molly. There was no reason for her to look like that when Molly was having, he certainly hoped so, one of the best moments in the past two weeks.

Thinking about it brought the faintest amount of colour to his usually pale cheeks. Honestly, there was only one way to describe it. Heavenly.

More potent than any high he had ever experienced.

He wondered if she had felt the same things he had at that moment. The rush of blood to his ears, the thumping of his heart, so loud that even she could have heard it, his brain shutting down to everything else in vicinity, allowing itself to be completely overwhelmed by her, the warmth of her proximity as she pulled him closer and closer until he could get no closer, what could be described as pure bliss, all personified into one single person.

Her face as her warm brown eyes stared into his own ocean blue searching for something and finally smiling when they found it which had drawn his attention to her lips, delicate and pink, how could he ever have criticized them?

The cabbie's angry voice rang out in his ears as he shouted at him to get out for the fifth time. Had he been that lost in his thoughts?

He shoved some money into the driver's hand and climbed up to his own apartment to find John staring at him from the armchair, wearing a bemused expression.

He raised his eyebrows, and got a grin in reply.

'Sherlock, whom did you kiss?' John chuckled before looking away and trying to stifle his laughter.

He stared. Since, when had John become so good at deducing things like him? Surely there was nothing different in the way he had walked or dressed. His shirt wasn't crumpled, nor was his hair more messed up then usual. That left only one option.

His eyes widened as he rushed to the mirror in his room and there it was, a slight amount of lipstick on the corner of his lower lip.

He groaned before slumping into his armchair. It wouldn't take John any time to find out it was Molly, since he was taking her to dinner tonight. Which reminded him of those texts all those years ago, each one ending with' Let's have Dinner.'

It brought another flush to his cheeks, thinking of Molly and him that way, having her to himself, each and every bit of her.

He snapped out of his reverie once more. What was wrong with him? Seriously, it had been better when his work had been his only interest. But he brushed off that thought almost immediately. It wasn't true and he knew it.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of one of the quietest, most classy restaurants of the town.

'Hello, I'd like to make a reservation for two tonight, in the name of Sherlock Holmes..'

xxxxxxxxxx

She froze as she heard Julia's words. She knew. Holy crap, she knew. How?

'How d'you know?' she heard herself whispering.

Julia said nothing . She stood in the doorway, just smirking her usual smirk before narrowing her eyes and walking away.

Molly trembled, knowing that the first thing she ought to do was tell Sherlock. Yet she couldn't bring herself to call him and tell him. Very well. She would tell him tonight.

Thinking about the date once again brought a smile to her lips. A dinner date with Sherlock! Should be fun, she smiled to herself.

xxxxxxxxx

She stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom, smiling at her reflection.

She was dressed in a merlot coloured dress that ended just above her knees. It hugged her torso but flared out below her waist. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders and she wore a pair of heels.

Good.

Now all she had to do was wait for Sherlock.

The doorbell rang not ten minutes later and there he stood, looking drop dead gorgeous in his usual suit. She noticed he was wearing the aubergine coloured shirt she was so partial to and smiled.

'You look beautiful, Molly.' he whispered in her ear before taking her hand in his and leading her down the stairs to the waiting cab.

**A/n : Review please...please * puppy dog eyes***  
**I love you all who reviewed the previous chapter, favourited and are following this story. You don't know how much you mean to me.**  
**I know this chapter is nothing but a filler but I still hope you like it. The dinner date will be the next chapter.**  
**Aditi xoxo**


	8. The Midtown Park

**Author's note : So here's chapter 8. Firstly, I'm sorry a thousand times over for such a late update. I had a part exam on Friday and I passed! So I'm happy :)**

**Secondly, this chapter is their date. I wanted it to be just that, so no Julia, no suspense in this one. Just the date.**

**Lastly, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, added this story to their alerts. You mean the world to me.**

**Listen to : Inside out by Bryan Adams**

**Disclaimer : Moffat and Gatiss. All yours.**

The ride was quiet. He said nothing but never left her hand. She was settled in her seat still marveling at the fact that she was out on a date with Sherlock Holmes. His hand was cold, a stark contrast to her warm skin. He was looking out of the window intently, never meeting her eyes. She looked ahead, trying to calm down her nerves which seemed to be very shaky indeed.

Fifteen minutes later the cab halted and they got out. Molly gasped at the view in front of her. She had been expecting a large, grand restaurant since it was Sherlock's choice but nothing could've prepared her for this. It was positively tiny, a quiet two storeyed place but which just spelled high class all over. Sherlock took her hand again, a slight smile on his face.

'I take it you like it then?' he asked quietly.

She just nodded unable to say anything. How had he managed to know that this was exactly what she liked, rather than tall skyscrapers and noisy cities? But then he was Sherlock, she thought, he'd probably always known it.

He led her inside where a waiter took them to the backside of the restaurant where there was just one table, set for two, overlooking the garden. Two glasses, a slender vase with a single flower and a tall candle were already present on the table.

Only after they had had their seats, did Sherlock look at her again. His expression was so different from the usual cold, calculating look he always seemed to wear. For once he looked human, a normal man enjoying a quiet evening with a woman he liked. The thought made her freeze._ A woman he liked?_ Was that even true? She didn't know what to make of it. For the time being she decided to forget about all that and to concentrate on not making a fool of herself in front of him.

'Yes, I do' he said.

'What?' she asked confused.

'You were wondering about me, if I like you. So I replied' he said nonchalantly.

'You said...' she couldn't continue, too elated by his reply.

'You heard me' he smirked knowing exactly what was going on in her mind right now.

_Disbelief. Confusion. Happiness. Elation. No hint of doubt_.

It never failed to marvel him how blindly she trusted him. He could be doing this to get something done from her, he was sure the possibility had occurred to her. But what intrigued him was how easily she had banished that thought, believing so strongly that he would never do such a thing, even though he had done it before.

It made him admire her even more. If there was one person except John who he had complete faith in, it was her.

He took her hand once again, enjoying the sight of the blood rushing to her cheeks, colouring them a delightful shade of pink. She was lovely. How could he have been so blind to such an obvious fact?

They talked about her as they waited for the food to arrive. Of course, he already knew most of it but he still listened, noticing the way her voice changed to a sad remorseful tone when she spoke of her Dad, when she closed her eyes briefly, reminiscing about her days at the university, how she had landed up at 's, and the way her hands moved, gesturing every little thing. She was adorable.

_She has always been a Daddy's girl. Not even in touch with her mother. No brothers or else she'd have been a lot tougher than she already is. Good at hiding her pain. Chose this line of career because she didn't want to look at people dying. Didn't want the responsibility. Understandable since her father passed away at that time and she saw how difficult it was for the doctor to break the news to her. Living alone all these years has deprived her of the benefits of company but still enjoys to go out with girl friends, judging by the slight tear in the bag she carries only to the theatre or is one of her best dresses. Expensive, good finishing, elegant chiffon. A stitch at the side. She has worn it before. Obviously didn't want to wear something new, wanted something comfortable._

This thought reminded him of the expensive glittery dress she'd worn on Christmas. She had looked stunning and he had been positively infuriated at the thought of her dressing up like that for someone else. She was his, how dare she? So he had gone ahead and ruined the evening for her. Later, he felt like kicking himself after discovering that it was all for him, only him. But the damage had been done. One look at her mortified face had told him that. And yet she had forgiven him yet again. So easily. The brilliant black dress was probably lying in the pile of discarded clothes at the back of her closet...

'Your turn now' she said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

'Sorry?' he asked.

She looked bewildered. Sherlock asking someone to repeat themselves? She had never seen that happening before.

'Tell me about yourself. I hardly know anything' she said in a persuading voice. Well, how could he say no when she was looking at him with those eyes, those bright brown eyes and that puppy dog expression?

So he began at the start, telling her about his parents, the strict disciplinarian Father, the loving mother, the huge estate, his school, his interest in science and his tutor who encouraged his deductive skills,his classmates and college mates..He hesitated here, knowing that he'd come to the point where he had started experimenting with narcotics.

She took his hand on instinct which led him to continue. He had never told anyone about this. Not even John. Yet, if there was anyone who deserved to know about it, it was her.

So he told her everything, his boredom where academics were concerned, the urge to break free, the first time he got high and finally all those years spent as a junkie, aimless and clueless. It had taken him three years to emerge out of the mess and he had never to go back.

He felt her grip on his hand slacken slightly when he got to the less than pleasant details of his addiction but she never left his hand. He appreciated it more than she would understand. He just squeezed her hand to express his gratefulness. After all, he wasn't really good with words. She nodded in his direction, a sign that she understood.

Their orders arrived just then and they leaped apart, not even realizing that they had been leaning towards each other all this time. They ate in silence, occasionally throwing in a remark about random things. Sherlock wanted to ask her about Julia but decided to forget about it at the moment. The evening was so perfect. Why ruin it unnecessarily? He could always deal with Julia later.

She was sipping at her wine and her plate was empty. He was doing precisely the same thing, thinking about what was going on in her mind.

One hand was absent-mindedly playing with her hair, the other was tracing the patterns on the wine glass. She was biting her lower lip yet again, trying very hard not to look at him but failing, as she took slight peeks at him every minute. His lips curved into a smile for the hundredth time that evening. She was thinking of him.

He offered her his arm, tilting his head towards the garden. She placed her hand in his without a second thought and they stepped out for a walk. She hurried to keep pace with him at the start so he slowed down a bit. Both of them said nothing for a while before Molly turned so that she faced him.

'Julia knows' she said, her voice laced with fear.

He wasn't surprised, he had suspected it anyway. Molly's face clearly showed that she had no idea how her assistant had known that. So he didn't ask.

'Hmm. I thought so' was all he said.

'You know, that day was horrible for me' she spoke timidly as if unsure what he wanted to talk about.

'It was pretty horrible for me too. After all, it's not everyday that one gets to jump from a six storeyed building' he joked and she laughed.

'I always shudder at the thought of what would've happened had I not succeeded in the attempts to resuccitate you' she admitted.

'Then, I would have died. What else?' he said in an amused sing-song voice, trying to cheer her up.

It had the exact opposite effect though.

'Stop it. It's not funny.' she cried out.

'I'm curious now Molly. What would you have done had I not made it?' he asked knowing that her answer would be _I'd have joined you _or something like that.

But she surprised him, as always.

' I'd have died a hundred times over than let you die. I'd have gone to the terrace myself and killed Moriarty if you hadn't told me to strictly adhere to the plan' she whispered, her voice quiet and full of hatred for her ex-boyfriend.

Her answer took his breath away. Once again she had proved to him that she was as loyal to him as John, willing to risk not just her job but also her own life for him. What had he done to deserve such fierce loyalty from his friends?

This time he knew that it was no use staying away from sentiment. He wanted to care for her, to protect her, to cherish her and wanted to drown in her love. She was one in a million.

His body didn't act of its own accord this time. His mind was the one in command, the one who told his hands to wind around Molly's waist and pull her closer, his head to duck down so that their faces were level and slightly lean in so that his lips touched hers in a gentle kiss.

**A/n : How was it? Please review...please!**

**Here are the links to the pictures of Molly's dress and The Midtown Park.**

**Molly's dress : . ?img= &outputx=340&outputy=408&level=1&ver=4**

**The Midtown Park : . **

**I loved both the pictures, I hope you do too!**

**Let me know :)**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	9. The Cab and the Cabbie

**Author's note : I know, I know it has been ages since I updated but please bear with me. I have my exams coming up on the 1st of December. The portion is huge and I'm so not prepared!**

**I tried but couldn't put the links for Molly's dress and the restaurant so I've put them on my profile. Please check them out, especially the restaurant, It's beautiful!**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it. It's a short one, but it's all I could manage for now.**

**Once again, thanks to all of you who reviewed, added it to your alerts or favourites. You make my face light up in a million watt smile :) :D**

**Listen to : That's what you get by Paramore.**

**Disclaimer : Sadly, it's not mine...**

Bliss.

Pure Untainted Bliss.

This was what Molly felt as she wound her arms around his neck, his breath mingling with hers, his hands gripping her waist, her petite body fitting into his perfectly as if they had been moulded to be so. Their first kiss had been chaste, shy and hesitant but this was nothing like that. It was gentle and sweet at first but deeper and more passionate later. His hands traveled up along her spine making her shudder. The other hand tightened around her waist, crushing her against him. Her hands were still around his neck, entangling in his dark curls. His hand swept away her hair from her back to one shoulder, exposing the pale skin underneath. His lips left hers for just a moment, kissing the crook of her neck and moving upwards to her jaw before claiming her lips once again.

Darn, how was he so good at it even without the slightest bit of experience?

She cherished every moment, wanting to etch it in her memory forever.

After what seemed like eternity, they broke apart. He smiled at her again and she returned it shyly. They walked back to the restaurant and then onto the street. A cab was already there, which was strange since the road was a lonely one on the outskirts of London. Sherlock said nothing, just raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and held the door open for Molly.

She knew that the journey was going to be long so she started a conversation.

'I had a great time. Thanks a lot' she said to him, blushing like always.

'I knew you would. I'm glad you did' he said, but she could tell that he was distracted.

'It beats me how she found out. She wasn't even in the pathology department when you... when it happened' she said.

'Where was she back then?' he asked.

'I'm not sure but I think in the forensic department' said Molly uncertainly.

'Well then she would know about the fall, right? since all the autopsy reports are sent there. She knew I had jumped. I returned a year later so she assumed someone at the hospital helped me fake my death by giving a false report. And since the autopsy was supposedly performed by you, it had to be you who helped me' he muttered. His eyes were closed and his hands were folded with the fingertips resting on his chin, the way they did when he was in deep thought.

She let him be, choosing instead to look outside. The scene was a little different. She couldn't recognize any of the buildings. They must have taken an alternate route then. They had passed the hospital on their way to the restaurant but now, she couldn't even see a single familiar spot. Were they going to be mugged? She felt a little uneasy but brushed it off as nothing.

After all London was a huge city with thousands of roads interconnected by small lanes. Maybe the cabbie was just trying to avoid the traffic. After all, the only route she took was from her home to the hospital and back. And once to Baker Street on Christmas eve a year ago. And occasional visit to the movie theatre. She really was pathetic wasn't she? Living in such a grand city would be the dream of millions. She lived here yet she had never bothered to explore her city. Unlike Sherlock who probably knew every nook and crammy. After all he spent most of his time running around the city with John and Lestrade, tracking down the antisocial elements who posed a threat to the people of this huge city...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud yell of 'STOP!'. Sherlock shouted again and again at the driver to stop the cab but no avail. They were speeding up now. They were now in a totally unknown part of the city, dark lanes with short dirty buildings with tiny pubs and a few street lights.

He tried frantically to open the door or the window but failed to do so. His eyes were wild as he stared at her and then at the rear view mirror. The driver's face wasn't visible due to the too large but she could see the triumphant grin displayed across the mouth.

Which drew her attention to the bright red lipstick, and the American Diamond embedded in her teeth. She could recognize that smile anywhere.

'Julia!' she shrieked.

**A/n : How was it? Let me know please.**

**Love you all.**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	10. The game

**Author's note : Wow chapter 10! It's kind of hard to believe I really got this far. Anyway, my exams are finally over and I'm as free as a bird! So here's chapter 10! I hope you like it. **

**Once again, thanks to all of you who read, reviewed and are following this story. You guys are simply amazing and I love you from the core of my heart. :)**

**Listen to: All these things I hate by Bullet For My Valentine.**

**Disclaimer : Not mine. Move on. **

Truly alarmed now, Molly glanced around her frantically. There was not a soul on the lonely streets. The windows wouldn't open either. Sherlock was texting away on his phone at such a speed that she couldn't even see his thumbs as they darted over the keypad of his phone.

'Julia, let us go! Why are you doing this? We can talk it out at the morgue... please' she pleaded but no avail. Julia didn't even show that she heard her. Instead she continued driving at a breakneck speed, still grinning from ear to ear like a cheetah proud of its catch. Sherlock hadn't even bothered with the doors or windows once he knew that they couldn't be opened.

Soon the cab screeched to a halt outside an old shed that had a single dilapidated table and three chairs. Four hefty men stood armed, waiting for their orders. Julia opened the door and stepped out.

Pulling a revolver from her waistband, she strutted towards the backseat. She pointed it at Molly and opened the door. Sherlock gave her hand a last squeeze before Julia beckoned her to come out.

'Hurry up, I don't have all day' she snapped. Molly stepped out, trembling from head to toe. It was totally Sherlock's territory, she thought. Finding yourself at the wrong end of a gun, dealing with insane criminal minds and what not.

'You too, . I must say, you're not as devoid of sentiment as I thought. It took you a surprisingly short time to realise how you feel about this silly girl. Makes my work a lot easier, really' she smirked at Sherlock.

'And what d'you mean by that? How does it concern you something happens between the two of us, Julia? Or should I say Mrs. Julia James Moriarty?' he positively snarled at her.

Julia's smile faltered but only for a moment before that annoying smile made its way back to her face.

'You figured out that too? Well, I must say I really underestimated you' she said, no longer smirking but smiling in a way that spelled danger ahead with a capital D and the rest in bold capitals.

'Just like him, right? Your so called-'

'How dare you?' she shrieked suddenly. The change in her demeanour was alarming. One minute she was so calm and composed and the next minute she looked positively wild, her eyes bulging out, her face contorted with anger. She looked livid.

'How dare you speak about him? How dare you say his name in front of me? You killed him. You killed him!' she yelled at him 'You don't have the faintest idea what I went through, right? My condition when I went to the roof after you jumped, hoping to find him jubilant and rejoicing at your fall, only to find him lying there silent and cold, in a pool of blood? All because of you!' Furious tears were leaking from her eyes now and Molly almost felt sympathetic towards her before remembering that she had a gun in her hand. Really, who knew better than her, how nice Jim was to his girls? Honestly she couldn't blame Julia for falling head over heels in love with him. Which brought back her attention to the shouting mess of a girl in front of her.

It was admirable how Sherlock managed to keep a calm face even when confronted with something like this. Molly would've probably run away with hands over her ears. But he stayed put, watching her scream at him without the slightest sign to show what was going on in his mind.

Molly was scared for him. After all, she had a revolver in her hand. Who knew when she might just end up shooting him in her deranged state. But her concerns were not really necessary.

She calmed down soon after, enough to regain her composure and smile in her dreadful way again. She pointed her gun at Molly again.

'Have a seat, both of you' she said in her normal voice, brimming with false sweetness. When they had done so, she glanced once at the armed men who advanced on them and promptly tied them up, leaving only their hands free. Their legs and torsos were bound tightly to their respective chairs. Molly tried to struggle but stopped when Sherlock shook his head at her.

She walked around them in a circle once, before facing them. Leaning on the table with her hands supporting her weight, she looked into Molly's eyes.

'Who would've thought it would be so easy to break your spirit? What a weakling you are! One rejection, one sacking and you think your life isn't worth living anymore? You almost spoiled my game. You weren't supposed to give up so soon, without him realising what you meant to him' she whispered all the sweetness in her voice replaced by pure venom.

Molly felt herself breaking all over again. Who could've known that mere words had the capacity to slice through her like a sword, leaving her bleeding?

'So that's what you wanted did you? Me suffering in the same way that you did? Feel-' said Sherlock but was interrupted almost immediately.

'Yes, Holmes, yes. Though I doubt you'll feel the same way even if I put a bullet through her head right now. Why don't we try and see?' she smirked once again before pointing the barrel at Molly's face.

'Don't you dare' he growled at Julia.

'Really? Why so? What would become of Sherly once Julie's done with Molly?' she said in a sing song voice, mocking him.

'And I don't even need you Holmes to know how your precious Molly would react if I point this at you' she said and pointed the gun at Sherlock instead.

For one insane moment Molly felt as if she were reliving the day he jumped from the terrace again. Her fears that he hadn't made it weren't devoid of reason because he hadn't been breathing even thought she had tried everything from shots of adrenaline to CPR. The only thing keeping her going was the feeble yet certainly present flow of blood in his pulse. Those two hours he spent unconscious were certainly the worst two hours of her life.

Involuntarily, she whimpered and tears began to prick her eyes. 'Not him. Please. please...!' she choked out.

'There you go. So predictable and dull. How can you even stand to be around her?' she said with a roll of her eyes.

It was becoming more and more difficult for him to control his anger and Molly could see him shaking with silent fury.

'Let her go. What you want is me. I killed him. Why don't we deal with this and leave Molly out of it?' he said, his voice stony.

'Oh but that would be no fun! No fun at all! But you know what, neither is this. There's no element of surprise if I blow out either of your brains right now ' she said pouting. Sherlock averted his eyes, clearly disgusted.

'I have a much better and exciting way to play this game Holmes. This time I'm bored devising plans to finally get you two together. I'd wait longer, maybe for you both to consummate your so called relationship, but I'd rather get this done sooner than later. So I'm giving you a fair chance to win this one. You win and you can walk away with your fool of a pathologist. You lose...' her voice dropped down an octave, 'and you know what happens.

That's what a case is for you right? A game? Well, let's hope you enjoy this one because I'll be playing too' she said with another fake smile before opening the cylinder of the gun and revealing it to the both of them. It contained a single bullet. She gave it a flick so that it rotated and lodged it back before it had stopped rotating.

A cold wave of trepidation settled over Molly as the realisation of what was going to happen dawned over her.

Julia merely placed the bullet on the table between Sherlock and Molly and announced with a flourish 'Ladies and gentleman, I hope you've all heard of the delightful game we're going to play, the one and only, Russian Roulette!'


	11. Bang!

**Author's note : Here you go. Chapter 11. I hope you all like it. A big thank you to all of you who reviewed, followed and added this story to your favourites. You guys rock :D**

**One more person I'd like to thank is the author pop pop bananas for the wonderful chapter on Russian Roulette she's written in her fic 'Fast Forward'. That is where the inspiration for this chapter came from. **

**Listen to : Leave out all the rest by Linkin Park.**

**Disclaimer : Sir ACD, Gatiss, Moffat, everything is yours.**

**So here goes! **

'You can go first, lover boy!' she said to Sherlock handing him the gun. 'Oh wait, before we start, I want you both to say a few last words to each other. After all, you never know if you'll still be alive when the game ends' she said, winking.

Sherlock gave her a deep look of disgust not unlike the one that was usually reserved for Anderson, before turning his eyes to Molly. His eyes softened, and he spoke in his low velvety voice.

'Molly, it is most unfortunate that I've to say this to you in a circumstance like this, but you must know that you're one of the most wonderful persons I've ever had the good fortune to meet. Falling for you was one of the easiest things in the world and I'm so sorry it took me so long to realise this...' he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

'Aw how touching!' said Julia, her hand over her heart, pretending to be touched 'You next, Molly' she barked to the frightened pathologist.

Molly didn't bother to look at Julia. Her eyes were fixed on the person sitting across her. She stared into his blue eyes. The love of her life. The man she'd brought back from the jaws of death. The one for whom she had waited almost six years. The detective who had finally confessed to having fallen for her.

It was cruel irony, she thought, to have finally had him to herself and now risking losing him or herself forever. Two kisses and a hug was all that she would share with him, it seemed. The thought brought a lump to her throat. There was nothing else to be done.

'Sherlock, from the very first time you stepped into the morgue, I've wanted to know you more. I don't know what drew me to you but somewhere along the way, I realised that I had fallen for you. I don't know what will happen now but if one of us doesn't make it, I just want you to know that you mean the world to me. Always have and always will' her voice broke at the last word and she averted her gaze, refusing to let him see the tears that had welled up in her eyes.

'Phew. That took long enough. If you lovebirds are done, can we start now please?' drawled Julia, pushing the revolver towards Sherlock. His hand hovered over it uncertainly before he grasped it in his hand and pointed it at Julia.

'And what if I refuse to play?' he said, his voice deadly quiet.

Julia merely threw her head back and laughed. Red dots appeared immediately over Sherlock and Molly's temples and Sherlock lowered the gun in surrender.

'What would you choose, Holmes? A chance or a certainty of death? Are you really as stupid as to believe that you even had a choice of whether you want to play or not? Now, be a good boy, stop wasting my time and proceed!' she said glaring at him.

Sherlock shot a brief glance at Molly again before raising the gun to his head. His eyes closed and Molly felt her heart stop.A gasp escaped her. He pointed the barrel at his head and pressed down on the trigger. She turned her head sideways and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn't bear to see.

_Click._

Molly let out a jagged breath that she hadn't realised she had been holding. Sherlock's eyes snapped open but were completely expressionless because he knew what was to come next.

'Your turn now' said Julia calmly, beckoning him to hand over the gun to Molly.

Molly didn't even think before grabbing it and raising it to her head. She looked at Sherlock once again, trying to etch each and every detail into her memory forever. Her eyes snapped shut and-

_Click._

An empty round.

It was only when Sherlock released a rough, jagged breath that she realised she was trembling…. She'd almost come millimeters close to death before escaping it narrowly. Too narrowly.

Sherlock's face was a complete mask now and he said nothing before sliding the weapon to Julia.

_Click._

She didn't even flinch when the gun attempted to fire.

'Your turn again' she said, smirking and handing the gun back to Sherlock.

Molly stared at her. Julia had to be suicidal, from the way she had regarded her possible death so casually. Molly was almost certain that Julia was going to end her own life if she survived this. It didn't matter to her whether she lived or died. After her revenge on Sherlock and Molly was done, she was going to end her life. What did it matter if it was a little earlier, a little messier, than she had planned?  
She was sure that Sherlock had realised that the stakes of the bullet hitting either of them were too high now. There were only three rounds left.

His face was determined as he reached for the gun once again. He pointed the barrel at his head and-

Her hand shot out suddenly, deflecting the barrel. She wasn't sure what made her do it but the sound emitted afterwards made her blood freeze in her veins.

**Bang!**

The bullet passed so close to his head that a few of his hairs had burned. Sherlock froze and his eyes widened in shock. Even he hadn't forseen this.

A mixture of relief, shock and disbelief was coursing through Molly. The bullet was gone! The game was over! They were still alive! But as expected, her happiness was quite short-lived.

'You filthy bitch' snarled Julia before stomping towards Molly and slapping her hard across the face. Pulling out another revolver, she beckoned the four armed men to come closer. 'You dared to mess with me, now pay the consequences' she said before pointing the barrel at Molly.

Sherlock was struggling hard to free himself and shouting out profanities,threats, insults and whatever ran through his mind at Julia. She paid him no attention whatsoever. She loaded the revolver and pressed down the trigger in slow motion.

This is it, thought Molly, looking at Sherlock with wide eyes before spotting the U shaped handle of an umbrella that had wound around Julia's hand and tugged on it, thus resulting in a gun missing its target for the second time that night.

**A/n : No points for guessing who's come to the rescue!**

**How was the chapter?**

**Like it? Hate it?**

**Either way, please let me know! I love reading your reviews!**

**Aditi xoxoxo **


	12. Tonight's the night

**Author's note : Here's chapter 12! And guys, Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all of you. I love you all! Have a great time :)** **I'm sorry for making you wait so long for an update but I really had no time. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. Thanks everyone who reviewed the previous chapter and added the story to their alerts and favourites.**

**Listen to : The Scientist by Coldplay **

**Disclaimer : Gatiss and Moffat, everything is yours.**

'Ah, we finally meet, . I confess that I wasn't expecting his last, best lieutenant to be you. Nevertheless, I must compliment you on the cleverness with which you kept your identity hidden' said Mycroft Holmes in his usual no nonsense voice.

Julia looked as if she was about to burst into flames any minute, she was so angry. Her hands were shaking and her breath came out in shaky bursts. After a couple of minutes though, she managed to cool down, enough to face the senior Holmes with a calm facade.

Molly was genuinely impressed by her. Julia really was an expert at keeping her emotions under control. The only person she had seen do that as well as her was Sherlock himself.

'A pleasure . Since your reason for being here is pretty clear, may I ask what is to become of me?' she asked coolly, the arrogance in her voice accentuated by the way she drawled lazily.

'Of course, you're very much allowed to do that. I dare say life doesn't look very bright for you from now on, Mrs. Moriarty. Considering that you're the only one to bear the brunt of his punishment for all the crimes that you both committed together, I'd say the kindest jury would reward you life imprisonment' said Mycroft, keeping his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him.

'Really, life imprisonment? But for that I'll have to come to court! How can you possibly be so sure that that will happen?' she asked in mock curiosity.

'Well, we as good as have you in our clutches, . Your little shed is surrounded by policemen and unless you can sprout a pair of wings, I don't see you escaping from here. I'm afraid that you'll be spending the night at the Yard tonight' said Mycroft tonelessly.

'Try and do me in first, Iceman. I don't think you'll be able to do that in this lifetime. Maybe the next' she said, her voice shaking.

Something in her voice caught Sherlock's attention and his head snapped up, only to be greeted by the sight of Julia holding a gun and pointing it to the roof of her mouth, the exact way in which Jim had killed himself. He felt a wave of trepidation wash over him and he saw Mycroft reel back, clearly shocked.

**Bang!**

The gun fired and he stared aghast at the woman lying on the floor, a pool of blood rapidly growing from her head.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

There was nothing else to be done. Her body was collected by the Yard and Mycroft left in his black Merc, leaving behind another car for them.

They pulled up at her apartment soon enough and her hesitant face was enough to tell him that she didn't want to be alone that night. Being around dead bodies was routine but he was sure that this was the first time she had seen someone die right in front of her eyes.

They climbed up to her apartment and she fumbled with the keys before unlocking the door and letting them in. The flat was almost exactly the same as it had been two weeks ago. An involuntary shudder shot through him as he remembered the circumstances during which he had been here previously. She mistook it, thinking that it was the cold that made him shudder.

'I'll get you a cup of tea. God knows I need one myself too' she muttered before bustling away to the kitchen. He took the advantage of her absence to study her home carefully. The decor reflected her personality, cream coloured walls with mahogany furniture which was classy and elegant, a floor carpet, a wall devoted only to family photographs, a television in one corner,a sleek bookshelf with glass doors, full of medical texts except for the top row which had a few novels by Jane Austen and a few Agatha Christie books. He knew that her desk was in her room, having used it an endless number of times when he had stayed with her after faking his death.

One book was perched precariously on the edge and would fall at the slightest disturbance. It had no title printed on its spine. Curious, he thought before extending up an arm and grabbing it. It was a handsome black leather covered book with the letters MH embossed in gold on the cover. As he flipped it open, he realised that it wasn't a book. It was her diary.

He flipped through the entries. Most of them were short and precise. He saw his name mentioned on almost every page and impatiently turned to the last entry which was a day before she had been fired from Bart's.

It wasn't an entry per se, it was a poem. So he read on.

_Bottled up inside_  
_are words I never said,_  
_the feelings that I hide,_  
_the lines you never read._  
_You can see it in my eyes,_  
_Read it on my face:_  
_Trapped inside are lies_  
_of the past I can't replace._  
_With memories that linger_  
_Won't seem to go away._  
_Why can't I be happier?_  
_Today's a brand-new day._  
_Yesterdays are over,_  
_Even though the hurting's not._  
_Nothing lasts forever,_  
_I must cherish what I've got._  
_Don't take my love for granted,_  
_For soon it will be gone-_  
_All you ever wanted_  
_Of the love you thought you'd won._  
_The hurt I'm feeling now_  
_Won't disappear overnight,_  
_but someway, somehow,_  
_Everything will turn out all right._  
_No more wishing for the past._  
_It wasn't meant to be._  
_It wasn't meant to last,_  
_I have to set him free._

His breath caught as he read the last two lines. Was she really about to give up on him? Or were those lines referring to Stuart? As far as he knew, she hadn't known the oncologist that well to write a poem about him. He replaced the book, realising that if things hadn't turned out like they did, he would never have realised what he felt for Molly. She would've moved on sooner or later. And apparently, that day hadn't been far away.

So in a cruelly ironic way, he had only Julia to thank for the way things were with them currently.

He sighed and sank into an armchair. The way she had shot herself was unexpected and so sudden. But he felt slightly relieved, knowing that she could never get to Molly again.

Speaking of which, Molly turned up with two mugs and handed one to him. She perched herself on the armrest of his armchair and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He drank up, sighing one more contently. No one could make tea and coffee as well as Molly. It was perfect, boiled the right amount, with the right amount of sugar and the perfect temperature.

He soon drained his mug and watched her do the same. She resumed her position on the armrest and her hand found its way into his raven curls. He leaned into the touch but a nagging voice at the back of his head kept telling him to ask her about the poem.

'Um, I read the poem you wrote..' he began, not wanting to waste any time explaining his actions and wanting to get to the point.

'You what?!' she exclaimed before getting up from the armrest.

'I read the last entry in your diary. I'm sorry but I need to know this.. Were you really thinking of giving up on me that night?' he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a single breath.

'Sherlock, I don't know what to say! You read my diary? Why would you do that?' she said, her voice becoming shriller with every word.

'Only the last entry. That too only because it was poetry' he said, trying to calm her down.

'Sherlock, please understand... You weren't supposed to.. That was private.. Oh dear God' she said before sinking into the opposite armchair and burying her face in her hands.

He walked towards her and gently pried away her hands form her face and looked into her eyes.

'You can be angry with me later, just tell me the answer to my question. Please Molly, I need to know' he said, his eyes pleading.

'Sherlock, I think the universe would stop existing when that happens. I wrote that in a fit of anger. You had humiliated Stuart in the morgue on that day remember?' she said, still slightly annoyed with him but inwardly melting looking at his expression, worry flicked with traces of uncertainty, an expression she had never seen on his face before.

'I am so sorry for that. And I'm also sorry for reading your diary..' he began but Molly cut him off.

'Well, I'm not. Because if that wouldn't have happened, this wouldn't have happened either right?' she said before pecking him slightly on the lips.

' You could've been killed. That day, tonight...' he said, his voice growing very soft.

' I still find it hard to believe that we made it out of that mess alive' she said before looking at him.

Their eyes met, and in a second they realised how close they'd both come to being killed. They weren't going to live forever.

In a split of a second, Sherlock leaned in and crushed her lips underneath his own. His hands moved to the back of her head and tangled in her hair, hers moved to his back, pulling him closer till the gap between them closed. Her legs wound around his waist and she felt his hands leave her hair and move to her back from where he hoisted her up so that they were standing now. Her hands moved up to cradle his face and got lost in his dark curls, tugging and pulling at them till he gasped. Their lips were moving in synchrony and she felt the tip of his tongue graze her lower lip and her mouth opened as a reflex.

His arms were tight around her torso, eyes closed in a fiery bliss that had never before existed for him. He bit down on her lower lip and that made her moan, a delicious sound that made him dizzy with arousal. Her petite frame was crushed against him and her hands were wandering in his hair, his own hands gripping her waist hard.

And all of a sudden she wrapped her legs around his waist tighter and climbed up which led to him losing his balance and they landed on the couch with a soft thump. Still, he didn't stop, never wanting anything else as much as he wanted her right now. His hands, having explored her back, now moved to her bare legs and hers moved to his collar, swiftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

His lips left hers and he buried his head into the crook of her neck, trailing kisses down her neck as he had done before. Her hands meanwhile had untugged his shirt and had now slipped underneath dancing over his chest before making their way to his back where she scratched his hot skin, making him growl. She pulled his face to hers and crushed her lips against his once again before planting kisses over his jaw, neck and along his bare chest. His hands had entangled themselves in her hair again and his nose skimmed over her collar bone before biting the skin over her neck pulse where he could feel the flow of blood under his lips.

And then he suddenly stopped, looking into her eyes, uncertainty worming its way back to his features. At that instant he felt so violently emotional that it would've left him breathless had he not already been robbed of any idea of breathing – focused on her, though fighting to concentrate, his breathing so loud and laboured that it seemed painful. He was about to share something so intimate with her that he couldn't help but wonder if she really wanted this as much as he did.

'You…' he struggled to get the words out, which probably wasn't helped by still having her pressed to his bare chest, his heart almost slamming out of his body and into hers. 'Are you… you… sure…'

For about ten seconds, she said nothing. Just when he was beginning to worry that she had changed her mind, she spoke. Her only reply was a whispered, barely audible 'I love you, Sherlock'.

For just a few seconds longer, he still stood frozen, his chest heaving with exertion – and then he crashed his mouth back into hers, both of them surrendering the battle of resisting each other. He reached around, down, scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his bare chest,and he carried her through to the bedroom.

**A/n : Like it? Hate it? Let me know! **

**The poem 'Inside' has been written by Melissa Collette and I'm just borrowing it, nothing else.**

**Please leave a review!**

**Love always**

**Aditi xoxoxo**


	13. Everything's alright

**Author's note : Happy New Year everyone! I hope you have a great 2013, full of surprises! Meanwhile, this is the last chapter of the story. I really hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Please read and review! **

**Listen to : The way you look tonight by Frank Sinatra.**

**Disclaimer : Gatiss and Moffat, thank you for creating this brilliant show. Happy new year. Now can we have season 3 soon please?**

The first thing that Molly noticed when she woke up was the extreme cold. True, her bed felt cold every morning, but today it felt even more so, since it was now deprived of the warmth of a certain person who had shared it with her. Thinking about the previous night made her sigh wistfully. Without a doubt, it had been one of the most perfect nights of her existence. She got up reluctantly, with just a sheet wrapped around herself. Stretching herself like a cat, she sauntered over to the window.

The sun had not risen yet but the sky was changing colour, from a deep endless black to the pleasant colour of diluted royal blue ink. She smiled. She had always liked this part of the day when night and day were blending into one another. Feeling a shiver go through her body, she threw on a pair of denim shorts and a shirt that lay draped on her armchair, and stepped into the living room.

She found him on the armchair, reading the newspaper, wearing his trousers and her brother's white full sleeved tshirt. Deciding against asking him how he had found that, she walked to the tiny kitchen.

'Morning' he muttered in that low voice of his, without looking up.

'Coffee?' she asked, unsure of his mood. He was so much like a closed book to her, except on a few choice ocassions, one of them being last night. That was one of the only times he had been so open about his feelings, all his emotions laid bare for her to see. And she had liked what she had seen. There was no mistaking the reason behind his actions, when he held her closer than was necessary, his arms around her the whole night, the way he had stroked her hair and kissed her cheek when he thought she had been sleeping...

She was jolted out of her reverie the sound of the electric kettle announcing that the water had boiled. She added two sugars and handed him the mug of coffee.

'Thanks' he muttered looking at her once, a brief flickering glance, before returning his gaze to the newspaper and then quickly looking at her again. 'Oh' was the only thing he said.

'What?' she frowned wondering what was wrong.

His expression smug with streaks of guilt. 'You're absolutely covered in purple marks' he smirked.

'And whose fault is that?' she said playfully.

He smirked once again before standing up and walking towards her so that he towered over her. He pulled open the first button of the shirt to reveal another large bruise that adorned her pale shoulder. He ducked down and pressed his lips on her skin whispering 'Completely mine' before straightening up again, and winding his arms around her waist.

She smiled up at him, putting her arms around his neck and resting her head over his heart, listening to the beats that had sped up just like her own due to their proximity. His hand left her waist for a moment to switch on the radio and Sinatra crooned in the background as Sherlock swayed her around , occasionally planting a kiss to her forehead and enjoying the way her arms tightened around his neck every time he did that.

'Oh and by the way' he whispered in her ear, 'you look very attractive in my shirt'. She looked down at herself, surprised, before looking back at him and asked hesitatingly 'You don't mind?'

He laughed for real, for the first time in many months and planted a kiss over her lips.

'Not at all' he said before pulling her close for another dance.

For once, everything was going to be alright.

**A/n : There. I finally completed the story! **

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